My emptiness, unwavering as it is, seems to be nothing more than a sudden drop in the ocean...

My emptiness, unwavering as it is, seems to be nothing more than a sudden drop in the ocean
And in comparison to the zeal of the masks I have worn, forlorn and faceless
Who am I but the feet within these boots I wear?
Who am I other than this grin beneath this lamplight?
Everyone seems to have a story
But these random occurrences lined up in my past seem to be little more than the corners I have glanced into on my way to this place
And here in this place, emptiness seems to call for a disassociation from an identity composed of those things seen
Emptiness, then, could be a way to be new again
Or
It could be evidence that I have been new each occurring second
All along •

Identity is malleable. Just like the body you have today is not the body you had seven years ago, you can recreate yourself each day, every day if you need to. Until you come across a person you can love, accept, and thrive with. Mistakes are in the past. You can be new today.•

Poem from Four Years in Chrysalis
© Aisha Tariqa Abdul Haqq Publishing
Follow @AishaTariqa for more original work •